


sank into eden

by ndnickerson



Category: Nancy Drew - Carolyn Keene
Genre: Alcohol, Chance Meetings, F/M, First Time, Future Fic, Loss of Virginity, Nancy Drew Files, Nancy Drew On Campus, Second Chances, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-28
Updated: 2011-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-28 07:55:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/305613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ndnickerson/pseuds/ndnickerson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened to Nancy and Ned’s relationship in the weeks leading up to her going to Wilder; Nancy and Ned run into each other unexpectedly during the On Campus series and realise they still have feelings for each other. Ned is stranded at Wilder and stays the night with Nancy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Nancy Drew snuggled a little deeper into her suede coat as a cold wind came through the trees. She winced as she pulled her glove back to peer at her watch, pausing under a streetlamp so she could read it. She was late, but with any luck she would make it to the meet in time to see the results.

Even so, Nancy had almost wished that the interview had gone longer, and she wasn't sure why.

Once she made it into the athletic complex, she unzipped her coat, breathing a relieved sigh. The heat touched the skin above the deep v-neck of her blue sweater, and she could feel her legs finally begin to thaw. Bess had insisted that Nancy buy the tight skinny jeans, saying they made her butt look amazing, but the fabric was so thin that her legs froze in the winter chill.

Her stomach was still full of tiny butterflies, and once she realized why, she tried to put it out of her head.

While she and Ned hadn't broken up permanently that time, some combination of the dark and being near the gymnasium alone made her remember the pranking case at Emerson and the awful emptiness she had felt when Ned told her he thought they should see other people. And maybe, in the meantime, she thought, she had started seeing that as the beginning of the end.

Shrugging it off, Nancy followed the signs to the pool area. Jessica Parker had asked Nancy to investigate when several members of the swim team had fallen ill, and over the case Nancy had become friends with her. After Nancy had discovered that the mother of one of the players was responsible, the team had practically begged her to attend their next meet. A few of the members were still angry and hurt, but at least they were all well again.

Nancy snagged a program when she walked in, and a quick glance at the board told her she had made it just in time. The final three events went fairly quickly, and when she saw Jessica, Nancy waved. The girl came over wrapped in a towel, her lashes thick and wet.

"You made it!"

"I made it," Nancy smiled. The butterflies were still there. For a moment she thought longingly of finding some campus party and drinking until she passed out, but more often than not, drinking just made it worse. She had a feeling tonight would be one of those nights. "Sorry, I came in a little late. How did it go?"

"Great!" Jessica swiped at her face. "I mean, you can't tell from the stands, but that's what happens when there's another game the same night."

Nancy gingerly patted Jessica's wet shoulder. "That's great. Well, I have an interview I need to submit tonight. Let me know when your next meet is scheduled, okay?"

"Sure," Jessica said brightly. "Thanks again, Nancy. You're a lifesaver. _Really_."

And that, Nancy had to admit to herself, _did_ feel good. She made sure her recorder was still in her purse as she headed out of the complex. Maybe the student union would still be open and she could grab a sandwich—

That was when she saw the purple and orange striped scarf, and her heart stopped.

She had been seeing the signs around campus for a week, they just hadn't registered. _Take Down the Wildcats!_ The _Emerson_ Wildcats. The game. Basketball season. And Ned was co-captain of the team. He was sure to be on the other side of the gym's double doors.

Nancy put her head down, hoping neither of the Emerson students who were at the concession stand knew her. Even so, her steps slowed. The crowd was a furious roar in the gym. The stomp of sneakers echoed through the bleachers.

No one would see her.

But Ned was sure to be there. And she would see him, if she wanted. For the first time in more than a year.

\--

She wasn't sure when she had fully decided on Wilder. When Ned had driven her to take the SAT, he had been suggesting Emerson English professors and dorm possibilities. The tours of other campuses had been almost perfunctory. Then she had seen the journalism major brochure, and after that, nothing else had held nearly so much appeal.

That was when Ned had changed, too. They had spent so much time together, and when she told him that she just wanted somewhere that was _hers_ , that she could explore and have and be proud of _herself_ , he had just shaken his head.

"But... it's Emerson. I'd be able to keep an eye on you and help you on cases, and tell you which teachers are easier—"

"And that's what I _don't_ want," she replied, and they were just entirely ignoring the movie showing on the television now. "There's no... no mystery to it," she finished, wishing she could come up with another way to phrase it.

"You don't want me around." A nerve in Ned's jaw twitched.

She put her hand on his shoulder. "You know that isn't it."

"It's practically four hours away," he retorted, his dark eyes flashing, and he shrugged her hand away. "Nan, come on. If you do this, if you go there..."

Nancy crossed her arms, hurt and stung by his tone. "If I go to Wilder, what."

"We both know... this will be even harder. Do you know how many couples break up when they start going to different schools?"

Nancy's heart dropped, and she made a scoffing sound. "We got through your first two years just fine. I've had cases in other _countries_. What are you saying, that you don't trust me?"

It was Ned's turn to cross his arms. "I just think you could have found somewhere closer than Wilder. That's all."

"They have one of the best journalism programs in the state."

"And you're suddenly so interested in _journalism_? Out of nowhere?"

"What's so wrong with that?"

Nancy and Ned stared at each other, Nancy's heart ready to beat out of her chest, when Hannah knocked on the door, then peeked in. They tried to look nonchalant, but Nancy was sure she still looked angry.

The fights just continued on that theme. He never came out and said it, but he seemed positive that the second Nancy set foot on Wilder's campus, their relationship would be virtually over. Even though she had denied it, part of her had known it was true. She had barely worn the locket he gave her for a day before she had taken it off, telling herself that she needed to find her way at Wilder without depending on him—at all, as it had turned out. Their breakup had barely felt like a breakup; instead, it just felt like the conclusion of the fight that had begun the day she told him she was going to Wilder. She had jumped into a new case immediately, and they had been apart so long already that his absence from her life, while it saddened her, didn't really change anything that much.

It was the intoxication of being somewhere new. For so long she had been fighting her attraction to other guys; now, she wouldn't feel guilty about a stolen kiss or an impassioned embrace. So many other guys were out there and she'd known him so long that Ned _couldn't_ be the right guy for her. To her, he was as comfortable as an old shoe, and sometimes the familiarity held just as little appeal. There were no secrets left with him, nothing new to discover, and a million other guys out there she hadn't even met.

Her relationships after him had been brief. Exciting, yes. She had relished her freedom and the ability to be whoever she wanted to be here. At Emerson, she had kept telling herself, everyone _knew_ her, as a detective, as Ned Nickerson's girlfriend. At Wilder everything had seemed to be a secret, something new and exciting. She was done with boring, dependable, high-school-sweetheart Ned. She was ready for new experiences and new people, and a new _her_. It was only natural that they would grow apart.

She told herself that so often that it became familiar, but it never actually made her feel _better_ about what had happened between them. He had been her best friend for so long, and then suddenly he was gone. It took a long time before she could even admit to herself that she missed the marathon phone calls, missed him talking her through a case. Maybe he was good old dependable Ned, but he _was_ good old dependable Ned.

And the thought of him with someone else was still enough to make her blood boil.

\--

She didn't realize how much of the roar of the crowd was muffled by the heavy doors. Flashing her press ID, she moved inside, and the cacophony was almost tangible.

The Wilder team was in white, the Emerson team in purple. Nancy recognized a few of her school's players, and her heart was in her throat as she scanned the Wildcats. At just over six feet, Ned was actually on the shorter end of the team, but his skill and leadership abilities had made him co-captain even when he was an underclassman. With a pang, she realized she didn't even know if he was still co-captain, if he was the only captain now.

The roar had settled to a hush as the teams rushed across the court. Their shoes squeaking eerily in the quiet, a cluster of Wildcat players streaked to the basket, the ball a blur of orange. Howie batted a defender away as Ned—

Oh, oh fuck, it was him. As soon as she realized it, she felt every single drop of blood drain out of, then flood into, her face, leaving her lightheaded. Faint purple dots briefly swam in front of her eyes.

Ned dribbled the ball twice, lined up his shot, and uncoiled in one fluid movement. The ball sank into the basket with a soft _whoosh_ , drawing the ire of the Wilder fans and the delighted cheers of the Emerson ones. Ned's face was gleaming with sweat, but his triumphant grin was unmistakable.

Her stomach actually twisted hard at the sight of it. She felt like every single nerve ending in her body was awake, alert. What would she do if he glanced over at her...

She was being foolish. Their parting hadn't been amicable, and she wouldn't be surprised if he hated her now. She hadn't run into him in River Heights over break; a detour through Mapleton hadn't yielded a chance sighting. No phone calls, no letters, no random emails, nothing, just social networks telling her they had friends in common and the way half the things she owned were marked by memories of him, like a faint bittersweet scent.

Even so, she couldn't drag herself away from the court. The game was two minutes from being over. And she was so accustomed to cheering for the Emerson team that every time one of them made another basket, she had to consciously restrain herself from crying out. Ned didn't glance over at her, didn't even seem to be aware of her. He was intent on the game, his square jaw set, tension in every line of his muscular body.

When the buzzer finally went off, signaling the end of the game, the loud sound of it seemed to break the spell. Nancy shook herself a little and, reaching for the zipper of her coat, rushed out before the crowd could pound down the bleachers and envelop her. Well, Ned looked well. Happy. She was glad for him, but some small part of her was disappointed, that he seemed to be doing so well without her. Even though she was sure it wasn't any residual feelings for him. It wasn't.

Most of the loudly chattering crowd headed immediately for the parking lot. Nancy set off for the student union. The coffee shop and deli counter were still open, and she ordered a ham and swiss on wheat, along with a latte to keep her awake long enough to get the interview posted. The coffee shop was warm and quiet, and as Nancy sat down at a small table for one, she only debated briefly before pulling out her laptop. The college wi-fi signal was strong here, and she plugged her headphones into her digital recorder, seating one earbud before pressing play.

The piece was half-puff. Sean Malloy had been named recipient of the prestigious Haslett chemistry fellowship. Most of his research plans had been entirely gibberish to her, and she had to google search several of the phrases to make sure she had the spelling correct.

Of course, the writing was slow, because she couldn't concentrate.

When she had started at Wilder, nearly a year and a half earlier, she had believed, really believed, that her life was going to truly, finally start. No more amateur sleuthing. No more dealing with the lack of respect policemen afforded her, no more depending on the random cases brought to her by strangers. Journalism would be a career, and it would mean purpose and consistency and the chance to really make a difference in the world.

And it would, she was sure of that. It was everything else that had changed, that had disappointed her. More than anything else, what she had found at Wilder was _drama,_ so much drama, so very much drama. Those men who had flirted with her, whose kisses had seemed so intoxicating in theory? They were complicated, selfish, dismissive, or weak, and the first few stakeouts or breakins were always fun, but they tired of it quickly. They wanted steady dates and kisses and the promise of more, alone in their dorm rooms. The other coeds were preoccupied with clothes and relationships and classes, petty and spiteful and consumed with their own lives. They wanted to play games, to tell lies and half-truths, and she was expected to just go along with it.

She kept hoping that she'd eventually find that one guy, the one who was tired of games, who would be honest with her, who wouldn't be trying to cop a feel while they were breaking into an office. The kind of guy who would get just as invested in a case as she would—

Nancy made a face, tapping the delete key to take out the last few gibberish words. That hadn't really worked out so well, had it.

What she really wanted, she realized miserably, was someone like Ned. And she just hadn't met that guy yet. Somewhere in her she was still convinced that a tall, dark, mysterious stranger was just around the next corner, someone with smoldering eyes and a generous mouth.

Nancy stopped the recording and propped her chin on her hand. Her coffee was getting cold, and her sandwich was half-eaten. She had to put Ned out of her head; he would be gone soon, forever, and she would just have to move on, again. The way she was sure he had.

The cashier at the coffee shop was just wiping down the counter when the glass door swung open, sending a cold wave lapping over Nancy. "Hey, still open?"

Nancy glanced up, blue eyes wide. She recognized the voice as belonging to one of Ned's teammates. He wore a purple wool jacket with orange leather sleeves.

In a moment the small area was crowded with Emerson players, blowing briskly on their hands, stamping their feet to warm up. The cashier was swamped with sandwich orders almost immediately. Nancy scanned the crowd, spotted Ned among them, and turned away, her cheeks flushing a little. A television in the corner of the shop was tuned to the local cable news channel. A woman with blunt-cut black hair was gesturing in front of a weather map. The ice and snow was expected to alternate for at least the next three days.

Nancy looked back down at her half-finished sandwich and made a face, then wrapped it up. She felt foolish, but she also desperately wanted to get out of the shop before Ned saw her. Just the thought of it made her belly twist in pained anticipation. Whenever she had thought of him in that time since she had last seen him, she had been sure that he was angry with her, and a confrontation was the last thing she needed.

She packed up her laptop and the recorder, then headed back up to the coffee counter. At least the coffee here was cheap. Keeping her face averted from the last few Emerson players in line, she finally reached the counter.

"Refill, please," she requested, handing over a palmful of change.

At the sugar and creamer table, she saw a flash of orange sleeve in her peripheral vision. Quickly she stirred another low-calorie sweetener packet in, then dropped the wooden stirrer into the trash, fitting the cup into a cardboard sleeve.

The man beside her was sorting through the creamer containers. She felt him glance over without even looking back at him, and that sudden awareness tingled over her skin, sending a flush to her face.

"Nancy," he said quietly, a faint question at the end.

She turned to him, her stomach tensing a little more, just before the door chime rang out. Coach Burnett walked in, a dark expression on his face.

"All right, guys. There's been a huge accident on the interstate, and apparently we should just give up on getting back to school tonight, the way the roads are looking."

Howie snapped his fingers. "Damn. Guess we'll just have to get a hotel room and find us a little company..."

The rest of the team members broke into enthusiastic conversation. Coach Burnett let out a shrill whistle to silence the crowd.

"We'll just grab a couple suites at that motel down the road. Get your stuff and let's get down there. And be on your best behavior. We are _not_ going to turn this into some Duke lacrosse bad-behavior bullshit, especially when we're away from campus."

Coach Burnett walked back out, as the quieter conversation started back up again, and Nancy turned to Ned. "Been a while," he said quietly.

"Yeah," she agreed. "I caught a few minutes of the game. You... you looked really good."

"Thanks." He looked down at her sweater. "You look good too."

Nancy smiled a little. "I... I'm sorry about the way things ended. And I'm sorry for not apologizing sooner."

Ned shrugged. "It's okay," he said quietly. "It really is good to see you."

The players began to file out, buttoning up their heavy coats, carrying their wrapped sandwiches and coffees. Nancy glanced over at them, then back at Ned. "Look, let me... I don't know, buy you a drink or something."

Ned shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat. The shop was rapidly cooling, thanks to the open door. "I don't know," he shrugged.

"One drink," she replied. "Just one. I just want to hear how things have been going for you... lately."

 _Since we broke up,_ she didn't say.

He shrugged again. "Okay, one drink," he said, and he wasn't smiling, but it was close.

The walk to the bar was silent and relatively short, but they were both freezing by the time they reached it. Saturday night and the place was packed with fans decked out in either Wilder and Emerson colors, flush with alcohol against the swirling snow outside. Nancy and Ned grabbed two of the last available barstools, at the very end of the bar, and when the bartender came over, Nancy flashed a fake ID and ordered them both pints of Guinness.

Ned raised an eyebrow when she looked over at him. "Oh?"

Nancy shrugged. "I got it for an undercover case."

"Sounds like that worked out great."

"It hasn't run yet." She bumped her shoulder against his. "Smartass."

Ned rubbed his shoulder. "So."

"Yeah." Nancy sighed. "I'm sorry."

Ned nodded. "It's okay."

"It's not okay." Nancy's throat was suddenly thick, and she swallowed hard. "I just wish... that we'd kept in touch. I miss being able to talk to you. And I know that you're probably mad at me, and I... I don't blame you for that. I could have handled things better."

She saw something, some expression in his eyes that she couldn't quite identify, and then the bartender brought their beers. "Look," Ned said, after his first sip, when he was toying with one of the other mats. "Nan, I knew from the day we first started going out that I was going to lose you one day." He shrugged. "You were always going to want more than I could ever give you. But it hurt, anyway. I... I just didn't want to let you go, and I could have handled that better, too."

Nancy stared openly at him. "But... you were here. And you... I feel like you just walked away."

" _I_ walked away?" Ned repeated incredulously, an edge of anger in his voice. "Really? You avoided my calls for two weeks, and then when I got up here it was like you couldn't wait to find an excuse to get away from me. _I'm_ not the one who walked away."

Nancy glanced down. "I... I just didn't want to have that conversation."

She could feel his dark gaze on her for a moment longer. Then he shrugged and turned back to his drink. "I didn't, either. Not really."

Nancy took a long sip of her beer. "What do you mean, you knew you'd lose me?"

"Just that." He trailed off as a group of fans on the other side of the bar started shouting at a game. "Every time I turned around you were off on another case, flirting with some other guy. I couldn't be there for you all the time. Even after I graduated, I wouldn't be. But I... cared about you, a lot. I thought that might be enough, for a while." His smile was humorless, bittersweet.

There was a time when he would have said that he had loved her. She had thought that what they were would stand, but maybe eventually they would both rewrite their history, just diminish it until it was nothing.

She realized, with a pang, that she already had begun.

And she couldn't say that anything he had said, wasn't true. She _had_ flirted with so many other guys while she was with him. She _had_ looked forward to Wilder as a way to be outside his influence. Her freedom had been complete.

And now she was making all the mistakes, since now she had the freedom to do so. It wasn't everything she had always dreamed it would be. It was much, much less.

When she looked back over at him, Ned had finished half his beer. He was still in his jacket. He looked like he was a few minutes away from walking out, and that would be it. Apology given and accepted.

That was all she wanted. All she was supposed to want.

The taste of the Guinness was strong. Nancy took another long sip, and the longer this silence stretched, the harder it would be to break.

She put down her beer and swallowed and squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them. "You never understood it, did you. Why I had to come here."

Ned turned his beer glass slowly on the mat, not looking at her. "Because you didn't actually want to say 'We should break up.'"

She touched his hand, stilling it, and he glanced over at her. "Because I needed to see who I was without you," she said, leaning in close to him. The crowd was louder, now, raucous. "Who I was without a safety net. It seemed so ridiculously cliche to still be with my high school sweetheart. So lame."

A nerve in Ned's jaw tightened. "Yeah," he said roughly, and planted his hands on the bar, ready to push back.

"But you know what? Fuck what everyone else thinks," she said, and his brown eyes were a little wider when he glanced back at her. "I wanted to see what life was like without you, and I've seen it. You know what I've found here? Drama. So much fucking drama. The girls in my dorm say one thing to my face and another as soon as I leave the room, and the second I glance at a guy, it's like there's some huge dare to see who can get him away from me first. Including you."

For the first time since they had entered the bar, Ned seemed to relax a little. "Well, that has to make you feel good."

"How?" she said, shrugging. "I didn't think I was a saint or anything, but _God._ Basic human decency? Why."

Ned smirked slightly. "There's nothing in it for them."

"Except everything I want."

Ned signaled to the bartender for another beer, and Nancy slipped out of her coat, smiling a little to herself.

From the Guinness they moved on to Irish car bombs, then slippery nipples, then shots of Patrón chased with diet soda. She told him how disappointed she had been, and then she got drunk enough to put her hand on his shoulder and tell him that she had _needed_ that, because she had taken him for granted, and she needed to see how life was without him. He had been _so good._ And she just hadn't seen it.

Ned tossed back another shot of Patrón and didn't even grimace when it hit the back of his throat. "That's really fucked up. You know that, right?"

She blinked at him. "It's true."

"H—Nan, it took me a while, but I finally managed to get my head..." He gestured vaguely. "Managed to get everything straight without you. And it's been going _good_ for me. Senior year. Captain of the basketball team. MVP on the baseball team."

She nodded, almost to herself. So he was.

"And you're like 'It's okay, it was just a phase,' or whatever the fuck—"

"What if I'd been first," she said, and it took her two tries to pick up her latest shot of tequila. "What if I had gone off to school and solved mysteries and then you had come along, and I had told you just everything about everything, and everywhere you went they would have been like 'Hey, it's Nancy's boyfriend,' and... everything was already just _there_. Without you doing anything." She tossed back the shot with only the smallest grimace.

Ned made a face. "What are you saying."

"I had to figure out who I _was_. Who I _am._ "

"What the fuck do you _mean,_ " Ned groaned. "You are who you are, wherever you are."

"But I'm not," she said, with the solemnity that came only with inebriation. "I'm not."

He shook his head. "I think you were chicken," he said, slurring only a little, and she had only seen him this drunk a few times before. She found it fascinating. "I think you were afraid of the idea of spending two years so close to me."

She shook her head, and it kept moving even after she stopped. She gulped in a long breath. "I could have done it."

"If you weren't so busy 'finding yourself,'" he said, putting air quotes around it. The sight of it was so ludicrous that she doubled over laughing, and Ned scowled for a few seconds before he broke down and joined in, and oh, God, how it pulled at her, how it ached, to see that expression on his face again. Their laughter died down but their gazes held, and she wondered if he could feel that old charge in the air between them, or if she was imagining it.

Ned turned away first and took a sip of his soda. "So you don't regret it."

"I just regret that it ended the way it did. And... this is fun, right?"

"Sure." He bobbed his head, a slow smile drifting over his face as the next round of shots came over. "Fuck. You said you were buying me _a_ drink, right."

Nancy dismissed it with a wave of her hand. "So we should do this. Just get together and talk. Like we used to. Except you're mad at me."

Ned had to turn very slowly to look at her; she had a feeling he would fall off the barstool otherwise. "I was mad," he admitted. "Now I just... I feel numb. I knew it would happen but I couldn't help... seeing it."

"Seeing what?"

He shook his head, reaching unsteadily for the shot glass. Nancy had to cling to the lip of the bar to keep herself steady on her stool. The earth was wavering under her. In her peripheral vision she saw a steak knife in another customer's hand and for a second considered swearing to him that she would open one of her veins, right here and now, if it would make him feel better.

"Doesn't—doesn't matter. 'Cause you're right here." Ned tossed the shot back. "And you look _goooood._ "

"So do you." She bumped his shoulder and they both simultaneously almost fell off their barstools. Nancy's soda fell off balance, and they both watched it like it was slow motion, something neither of them could prevent. The pool of soda spread quickly over the bar top, and Ned's hand was on her arm when she instinctually shrank back, trying to prevent the soda from spilling all over her jeans. Even so, a thin wave of it hit her thighs, and she let out a disappointed groan, grabbing a stack of napkins at the end of the bar.

"Here." Between the two of them they pressed the napkins against her pants to soak up the liquid, and she glanced up into his eyes, and oh, she couldn't be imagining this. When she looked down and back up again, he wasn't meeting her eyes.

"You knew I'd be here."

He shrugged. "Yeah, and... you made it clear that I was welcome to go fuck myself, as far as you were concerned. And I'm... kinda... seeing someone." He released a long sigh at that one, reaching for his chaser, then offering it to her.

"Oh." Nancy took a long sip. "And I didn't say you should go fuck yourself."

"Yeah. 'Go sleep on a different floor, okay? I can't wait to get you out of my sight.'"

"I thought you said you were numb," she said, before she thought. "You don't sound numb. You sound angry."

"I _thought_ I was numb. I guess... I guess yeah, Nan, it does still suck. And some bullshit about having to find yourself just means you had to find yourself trying to get into someone else's pants."

Nancy flushed. "I'm sorry."

"No you aren't," he said, and he was still slurring a little. "Why would you be. 'Cause everything is always sunshine and rainbows, no matter what."

Nancy pressed her lips together, then started to push away from the bar and fell off balance. Ned's steadying hand on her arm was all that kept her from crashing to the floor. The soda was wet against her thighs. "You haven't heard a single damn word I've said."

"It's what you're _not_ saying," he told her. "You're not sorry. And it doesn't matter who you hurt or who's in your way as long as you get what you want, and you know what? I guess I've finally made my peace with that."

"Yeah, you sure have," she said sarcastically, reaching for her purse.

"You gonna settle this tab, lightweight?"

" _Lightweight_?" she repeated. "One more drink and I'll be scraping you up from off the floor."

" _Frat brother,_ " he reminded her slowly, and the bartender had come over to mop up the spilled soda. Ned gestured for another round, and the bartender cast a worried glance between the two of them.

They split the bill evenly, once they were both thoroughly, gloriously drunk, and she winced at her part of the tab. That adventure had pretty much killed her budget for the rest of the month. Good thing she had her father wrapped around her little finger and could easily ask for more.

Once they were out in front of the bar, in the driving snow, Ned quickly buttoned up his jacket, blowing into his cupped hands. Nancy zipped up her own jacket, although it took five attempts to line it up right.

"What— why."

Nancy turned to him, her eyebrow raised, and thought hard about not throwing up. Half a sandwich. Stupid. There was practically nothing in her stomach to help soak up all that alcohol. She reached into her bag and brought out the rest of her sandwich, and offered Ned half of it without really even thinking about it. She had to force herself to take the first bite, but after that it was easier. In the quiet they finished it off, and the campus before them was spread out all white and clean, the wind sounding like nothing so much as a long mournful cry.

"Why?"

Ned glanced over at her, his expression blank, and she shrugged a little. "You were saying something," she prompted. The air was already coming straight through her jeans, but the area left damp from the soda felt cold enough to burn.

"Why'd I come here."

"For the game."

Ned nodded, haltingly. "Yeah. Woulda lost without me." He snuggled deeper into the collar of his coat. "And seeing you wasn't so bad."

She nodded, although the movement made her feel suddenly nauseated again. "We should... I mean, if you aren't mad. We should do this again."

Ned laughed. "Get drunk and angry and rehash old shit. Sure. Why."

"Because I miss you."

"The way I helped you on cases."

Nancy shoved her hands deeper into her pockets. "That, and... just talking to you. You were one of my best friends. And then you weren't there anymore."

"Because that's what you wanted."

"Well, I was wrong," she said, lifting her chin defiantly. "Okay? But I was never gonna figure it out. Not by myself. I had to lose you so I'd know how much you meant to me."

Ned kicked at a clump of snow. "Yeah."

She winced when she pulled her hand out of her pocket, but she touched his arm anyway. "I know I don't deserve to be your friend," she told him. "After all that shit. I know. And I know all this sounds like bullshit." She had to blink a few times to be able to focus on his face. "But... I do really miss you."

Ned groaned aloud. "God. You... you do know that you don't... you shouldn't be allowed to even ask for that."

She nodded, wincing at the way her head sloshed. "I know."

"And you suck. You totally suck for acting like that much of an idiot."

"I know."

He held out for a moment longer. Then he wrapped his arm around her and gave her a little hug. "How about you call _me_ , this time," he said, and she didn't even care about the little edge in his voice. "When you're this drunk again and feeling all... all remembering."

"Nost— nost something," she chimed in. "How about when I'm not drunk."

"That might be okay. We'll see."

She wrapped her arm around him and hugged him in return, resting her cheek against his shoulder. "That... would be great, Ned."

She called for a cab, positive that if she tried to walk back to her dorm she would find a lovely park bench and curl up there and campus security would find her frozen to death in the morning. Ned walked a few steps over, his cell phone to his ear, and she heard him chuckling at whoever was on the other end of the line, and she wondered whether this was the girl he had been seeing.

Ned hung up and came back to her. "Well, I guess this is goodbye. Time to hit some shitty motel room on the other side of town. Coach only sprung for two rooms so we're all camping out in sleeping bags or whatever the fuck. Gonna be a blast." He rolled his eyes, and lost his balance a little.

She giggled. "You should come stay in my room," she told him, eyes wide with mock seriousness. "My roommate won't be there."

"Yeah, that sounds like a perfect idea. What happened to 'go sleep with the outcasts on the next floor'?"

"No roommate this time. And we can braid each other's hair and make hot chocolate and gossip about boys."

"I don't know how you managed to mix me up with Bess. I've got a foot and seventy pounds on her." Ned bumped his shoulder against hers. "Don't tempt me."

"Seriously. It has to be better than sleeping on the floor in a room full of drunk snoring frat boys." She bumped him back. "Long as you give me your word you won't try anything."

He brought his hand out of his pocket long enough to flip her off, and she swatted it away, giggling, and he apologized. "Scout's honor."

The alcohol had made it sound like a fantastic idea. Even so, when the cab pulled up in front of her dorm and he slid out next to her, she couldn't believe he had said yes. Her stomach gave a little flip every time she glanced in his direction.

He still had the duffel bag of his gear, and when they reached Nancy's room it was in fact empty. She hastily grabbed some pajamas and went to the suite bathroom, ricocheting off the walls a few times, stifling her giggles. She choked down a few extra-strength aspirin and then shook a few more out of the bottle for Ned. Her pajamas were baggy and flannel, not flattering at all, but at least she wasn't covered in soda anymore. She hastily rinsed her face and brushed her teeth, then headed back to her room, still giggling a little to herself.

Ned was standing in the middle of her room in his boxers and socks, gazing at her bed, looking a little ridiculous. She chuckled and shook her head, then offered him the aspirin.

"Your bed is really fucking small."

"You complaining, Nickerson?" She found the end of a bottle of orange soda in the fridge and passed it over, watching him down the pills with a slug straight from the mouth of the bottle.

"Guess I am," he replied. "Gift horse, whatever. And you said something about no shenanigans."

"I have a sleeping bag," she shrugged. "I can sleep in it. Or you can."

"Shenanigans are much harder when one party is basically inside a huge condom," Ned said solemnly, nodding, and they both lost it then, in a burst of helpless gasping laughter.

Even after that, her heartbeat sped up a little as she flipped the lights off, then began to manipulate the sleeping bag. Ned crept under the covers to lie between her and the wall, and she gazed at the vague shape of his face in the darkness, a small smile on her face. Wondering if he remembered everything she did, if this was bringing back the same memories for him. Memories of waking up together in his room at the fraternity house, half naked, her lips already pressed in a kiss against his skin. At least he wouldn't be able to get her clothes off, not while she was already wrapped up like this.

Part of her was just slightly disappointed by that, but she was rather _incredibly_ drunk and that small still voice, all that was left of her self-restraint, was saying very firmly that she didn't need to take her clothes off and crawl on top of him. She definitely didn't need to do that. She needed to sleep.

She shifted and Ned snorted. "You'll be burning up in an hour," he predicted.

She made a doubting noise. "It gets really fucking cold in here at night," she told him, and yawned hugely.

"And how much room is left in that thing?"

"Not enough," she told him, turning onto her side to face him, her eyes closed.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed when her eyes suddenly popped open. His breathing seemed slow and regular. "Ned?"

He grunted an answer. He probably wasn't awake.

"You said you saw something," she said, nuzzling her cheek into the pillow. "About us."

Ned blew out a long breath. "It's stupid," he said, his voice slurred with exhaustion and alcohol.

"So what," she murmured.

"I saw us together," he said, quietly. "My head kept telling me, just love her while this lasts, but my—" he scoffed, "—my heart said I would be with you. That I had to fight for you."

"But you didn't."

Ned sighed. "Maybe I wanted to see what I was like without you, too," he replied. "Well, even more than I always was. Maybe. But all the weight— it was all on me, babe. And I was just so tired."

 _Babe._ He hadn't called her that in a year.

She closed her eyes and Ned's fingers brushed her cheek, and immediately her heart seized hard in her chest. "Go to sleep," he slurred, the bedsprings creaking as he shifted. "Just go to sleep."

She had passed out before he even finished saying it.


	2. Chapter 2

Someone slammed a door in the hallway.

Fuck. _Fuck._ She was burning alive.

The bed creaked a little and she felt Ned move beside her, and then—

"Ow _shit_ ow," she almost howled as his hand pressed into her hair. He flinched back and half the length of his body pressed against hers, briefly, as he half-tumbled off the bed.

"Shit." Ned stumbled a step backward, and the bed shook when the back of his leg struck it, and Nancy moaned. "Sorry. Shit. _Shit._ What time is it?"

Turning her head to look at the clock made her suddenly incredibly ill, and she fought her way out of the sleeping bag, desperate to get to the bathroom. "Clock," she managed, pointing, clapping her other hand over her mouth.

She barely made it to the stall in time, and after an utterly _wretched_ ten minutes, she finally thought she might be okay to get to her feet. The force had set up a dull resounding pound in her head, and when she washed her mouth out, her reflection in the mirror was a chalk-pale, miserable shadow of the usual image she saw there.

She walked very slowly back to her room, avoiding the knowing gazes of her floormates, one arm wrapped protectively over her queasy belly. Ned was standing in the middle of her room, hair sticking up crazily. He had pulled his jeans back on, but he was barechested, staring down at his cell.

"How the _fuck_ was it on silent," he snarled, shaking his head.

"What's wrong," Nancy murmured, shoving her hair back into a sloppy ponytail.

Ned shook his head and tossed his phone onto her bed. "Well, I was gonna take the bus back, but they left thirty minutes ago, so that's just fucking great." He ran his hand through his hair and made it look even worse. She wasn't sure how he even managed to do that.

Nancy coughed, then held perfectly still until the accompanying wave of nausea subsided a little. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "It's okay. Unless you're the one who put it on silent in the first place."

She started to shake her head, then nixed that. "Nope. Sorry."

Ned looked down at his bag. "Got any more of that aspirin?"

She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. "In the bathroom. Oh shit. Guess I better go with you."

Ned made a face, then really looked at her for the first time. "Oh, God, Nan. You look like hell."

She smirked at him. "Thanks."

"How do you feel?"

"Like I drank about three times as much as I should have," she told him, her voice raspy. "Can't believe you do this every weekend."

"Not every weekend. Practically every weekend."

It wasn't until they were walking side by side down the hall to the bathroom that Nancy realized she had even been nervous about how this morning was going to go. They had seen each other with incredible hangovers before. It was just everything they had said the night before. She could remember all of it, or at least practically all of it. She had no idea what he remembered.

Ned was swallowing a dose of aspirin when Nancy had to throw up again. The next five hours of her life, _at least_ , were going to be shit. She rinsed her mouth and face several times, until she didn't feel quite so shaky. She walked out of the bathroom with damp patches on her pajama sleeves from splashing the water around, and Ned's exhausted, pained gaze met hers.

"Better take some aspirin."

She waved off the bottle. "I... I have a couple things to finish up, but I could drive you back to Emerson."

Ned shook his head. "No. It's... I couldn't ask you to do that. It's, what, seven hours out of your day? At least?"

She shrugged. "I feel bad. If you'd gone back to the room with the team you wouldn't be stranded here."

Nancy had noticed that Ned's shirtlessness was drawing a few appreciative glances. Then Stephanie walked into the lounge and Nancy took Ned's hand to lead him back to her room.

But of course she wasn't fast enough.

"Well. That was fast, Drew. What's it been, three days since the last guy did the walk of shame from your room?"

Nancy's fingers tightened around Ned's wrist, and she turned to face Stephanie, and it was the hangover and the headache and how fragile things were with him, and every single catty, bitchy thing Stephanie had ever done to her.

"Why don't you step the fuck off," Nancy replied, her voice low and dangerous. "Because I really don't think you want to start talking shit right now."

Only the slight widening of Stephanie's eyes betrayed her surprise. Then her gaze narrowed. "Getting so desperate you're nailing your own leftovers?"

That time Ned's hand was the one that tightened, and rage had Nancy panting, energized. Her other hand was curled into a fist. Ned let out a slow breath before stepping close to her. "It's not worth it," he said softly, and she closed her eyes for a moment. When he gently tugged her back toward her room, she came willingly, even though the hair on the back of her neck rose when Stephanie muttered something under her breath.

By the time Ned shut her door behind them, Nancy was shaking a little. The burning had given way to a persistent chill. "Shit," Nancy muttered, swiping at her eyes with the cuffs of her pajama top.

"What was..."

Nancy shrugged, walking across the room to pull her desk chair out and fall into it. "She's a bitch," she said tiredly. "Ugh."

Ned nodded slowly. "Yeah. I pretty much picked up on that."

She sighed. "Okay. I'm sorry about that."

"You could smuggle me out in a laundry basket," he suggested. "Or, I don't know, flip her off if she decides to talk some more shit."

She smiled at him, and he smiled back, sitting down on her bed. "Thanks."

"So. Tell me how to get some coffee or I'm going back to bed."

Nancy went for the hot water, pointedly ignoring Stephanie as she did, and returned with two mugs. While she finished writing up the interview, Ned left with his bag and came back dressed, although the shade of stubble still lined his strong jaw. He rolled up her sleeping bag and sat on her bed, playing with his cell phone, and she stole glances at him every now and then. She knew she had to look like a nightmare, and that he probably felt like half of one, but he looked amazing. Unreal. She'd almost believe that she'd dreamt the night before, if not for the living proof right there in front of her.

She emailed off her assignment, took a quick shower and did her makeup, and by the time she returned to her room she felt marginally more human and the editor had confirmed receipt of the interview. She turned toward the bed, where Ned was still engrossed by his cell phone, did a few calculations in her head.

Ned glanced up at her. "Seriously. If you can't do it, that's okay. I'll..."

"What, hitchhike?" Nancy shook her head and it didn't move too terribly much after she stopped, finally. "No. It's okay. It's fine."

He kept his gaze on her. "You won't miss anything?"

"There's a bio study group I'll probably miss, but there's another one next week." She shrugged. "Besides, I'm going to be worthless for the next few hours. Might as well spend them doing something mindless like driving."

Ned shook his head, then moved off the bed. "Okay. But I'll owe you for this."

She smiled a little. "Damn. I so hate it when you owe me," she replied, a grin in her voice.

Stephanie was still watching when Nancy and Ned came out of her room. Nancy saw some nerve in Ned's temple pulse and then he looped an arm around her waist, pulling her to his side as they walked out. Her heart beat traitorously fast at the contact. They made it to the stairwell that way, joined at the hip, and then parted.

"Sorry," Ned apologized. "Just don't like girls who are bitches to—"

 _To who_ , she wanted to ask, but didn't. Instead she shot him a genuine smile. "Well, that'll keep 'em busy until I get back."

Ned smiled back. "Good."

In the car Ned hooked up his own music collection and cued up a mix of songs from high school, and for a while that kept the silence from becoming too loud. She stopped to fill up at a service station and came back with energy drinks, chips, and caffeine, and after her headache began to recede just a little, once sunlight didn't make her eyes hurt quite so much, she said casually, "So, I know you were drunk last night when we were talking about... well, talking to each other again..."

Ned snickered, opening a bag of M&Ms. He offered her a palmful. "Yeah, I was drunk, not _gone_." He paused. "You asking if I changed my mind?"

She shrugged. "I guess."

He thoughtfully munched another handful of candy. "Talking," he repeated. "I... yeah. Yeah."

"Yeah, we should talk?"

"Sure." His voice wasn't convincing, and his face, when she glanced over at him, was drawn with unhappiness.

He just didn't want to say it. Her stomach lurched and she felt the sudden urge to steer off the road, to kneel and throw up until she felt better, but it wouldn't change anything. Instead she sighed. "Ned, look, we're not... anything, so just be honest with me."

He was still quiet for another moment. "How will it be any different?" he finally asked.

"I..."

"It wasn't working, Nan."

"I'm not talking about us dating—"

"I mean even as friends," he said quietly, and she had to blink hard to clear her sight. "And maybe it all got fucked up together and... I don't know. But everything you... all those things that broke between us, I just don't know how all that's gonna get fixed."

"It won't be tomorrow," she told him. "Or overnight."

"And you'll be telling me about all these amazing things you're doing at school, and we'll, what, get together and go shopping on the weekends with Bess and George..."

She glanced over at him again. "I don't understand. Yeah, we'll talk about our days and cases and whatever else. And if you want to go shopping with Bess and George, hell, we'll do that too."

"And everything'll just be the way it was."

"No."

"No." Ned shook his head.

"So tell me what you want," she said, and she couldn't help the edge in her voice. The hangover wasn't helping anything at all. "Tell me what you think it should be like."

"I think," he said, and noisily finished off the M&Ms, "that we can talk about your cases, and have our phone calls every now and then, and then you're gonna find some other guy who's going to—"

"Who's going to what?" she cut him off. "Whatever it is you're about to say, you're wrong. Just because you're awesome doesn't mean anyone else is."

He tapped the back of her hand and her skin tingled at the contact. "I think part of why you came to Wilder was because you _didn't_ want me to be that much a part of your life. I can't really _do_ anything for you from Emerson. Can't grab a movie or a coffee or help you study for your final or whatever. I can be your friend, Nan, but I might as well be in another _country_ , for all the good it will do."

"And your solution... is for me to come to Emerson." Her voice trembled a little.

He shook his head. "Do you know how frustrating it's been not knowing _anything_? It will be a thousand times worse when I _know_ you're putting yourself at risk and I can't do anything about it. To hear about all the crazy shit you pull because you think you'll never ever get hurt and have to just say 'Oh wow, you are so lucky, great job!' Instead of grabbing you and shaking some sense into you."

"Because that always worked."

Ned released a bitter, dark chuckle. "It took me a long time to stop worrying about you, Nan," he said. "It'll be easy to start again. Easy to spend three hours on webcam watching you throw out ideas about your case. Easy to... to start wishing I could see you again."

Now it really _did_ take every ounce of her control to keep from steering the car into the shoulder so she could face him. "I thought you said you were seeing someone?"

He dismissed that with a wave of his hand. "A couple dates."

"But, sure, you've seen other girls since—"

"Yeah," he said, and shook his head. "Nan. I... I just don't want this to be what it was. It just turned all desperate and... and I felt like I just had to keep pushing, like you didn't want to be where I was anymore. And," he snorted, "it turns out that's exactly how you felt."

Her throat was thick and that was almost enough to gag her. She cranked the air conditioning up to the next highest setting. "And you think that's how it is with us, that we can try to be friends but it won't work?"

"I don't know. I just don't want it to turn into that. And we can try... but I don't know how it is to _just_ be friends with you. I know that there's broken dates and postponed vacations, but there's knowing you're with another guy, that he's here being what I was to you."

He trailed off and he didn't say it, not quite. His cell phone chirped with a text message and he pulled it out to check it, and she let out her breath in a long sigh, shaking out her clammy hands. Her fingers were cramped from their grip on the steering wheel.

He looked up from his phone. "You... look, I can drive. You look like you need a break."

"Thanks," she said, her mouth turned up in a wry twist. "Great."

She pulled in at the next exit, and they ended up stopping at a fast-food restaurant for a couple of sandwiches. Nancy picked at her serving of chicken breast; her stomach was still swirling with nausea from the night before, but even more, it was the direction their conversation had taken. She had only wanted to be friends with him again. She had only wanted the amazing support he had been to her again. The rest of this—

She supposed it had been at the back of her mind, but she hadn't really let herself think that far. Ned was amazing. The consensus on the Emerson campus was that he was, by far, the most eligible bachelor whenever he was on the market. His chiseled good looks only seemed to improve with age. She was the weak link in their relationship, and always had been.

Just because they never had just been friends, didn't mean it was impossible. It happened all the time. Their past history didn't have to make everything awkward.

But she could see it now, how it would. He was only kind of seeing someone, and she wasn't seeing anyone. She tried to imagine how it would feel for him to introduce her to a new girlfriend. To see him in some other woman's embrace. To hear him say that the new girl didn't want him talking to the old girl anymore.

Or, maybe, the opposite; a man who wouldn't understand her marathon phone sessions with Ned, who would accuse her of infidelity. Or someone who, worse,

( _why would it be worse_ , she wondered)

wouldn't see Ned as a threat at all.

The idea of keeping him secret, of having him all to herself, did give her a little thrill, she had to admit.

"Nan?"

She glanced up from her meticulously partitioned chicken breast and into the warmth of Ned's brown eyes.

"Hey."

"Hey," she replied.

"You're awfully quiet, Drew."

"Guess it's just a lot to think about."

"What is."

She rolled her eyes at him, a little, wincing when her headache gave another stronger throb. "I feel like we're at a standstill," she said. "I think."

Ned's tray was empty, save a few crumbs. Nancy had barely eaten a quarter of her sandwich. He glanced from her tray up to her face. "You want to get out of here? We can... talk in the car," he finished, sounding like he didn't exactly relish the thought.

"Sure."

They wedged their newly refilled soda cups into the Mustang's cupholders and Ned moved the seat back. "Standstill," he said, once he had the car cranked.

"I think... maybe you're overanalyzing this."

"How so?"

"Well," she stumbled, "you're poking all the holes in this before we've even _tried_. And you're smart. And we can do this. If we want to do this."

"Sure."

She sighed in frustration. "Ned—I mean, I know, what you were going to say earlier—"

"What was I going to say earlier," he prompted her, when she trailed off.

_Do you want to be with me again?_

But everything he had said, said no. They were separated by more than distance, now. A year apart. And he wasn't close to forgiving her. His lips could say it, but there was no way she would believe it.

"What were you going to say earlier," she finished, quietly.

Ned shook his head. "I think _you're_ overanalyzing now."

"Maybe I am," she said. She opened the chips and bit one in half, then made a face. "If... if I hadn't run into you at the coffee shop last night..."

Ned shrugged and for a moment she imagined it, the way the alcohol had made it feel. Being so drunk, with him, the memory of him heavy in her. She had imagined him escorting her back to her room, one hand at the small of her back, leaning in and catching her lips in a slow kiss. Imagined him stumbling with her into her room, leading her to the bed, whispering how much he missed her, how much he had wanted her while they were apart. How he should have fought to get her back.

"Maybe it would've been easier."

She blinked. "What would have?"

"Not running into you last night."

Nancy pulled a long, swift breath in. "Ned! God, seriously?"

"Yeah," he replied angrily. "Is this really fucking easy for you? How—"

"It's not, for you." It's only a little bit of a question.

Ned smacked his thigh in frustration. "How can you ask me that? We went through so fucking much together and just seeing you—"

Her mouth was so dry. She took a quick sip of her soda, unable to take her gaze off him. "What?"

"You want to know the truth? I had to get fucking drunk last night to deal with being around you. I'm about to climb out of my skin. I don't know what the hell you're going to do next. I want you... I want you behind me, Nan." He glanced over at her. "Or I want to..." He cut himself off, setting his jaw.

She took pity on him, after he was quiet for a long moment. "If it's different," she said, and touched his hand. "Only if it's different."

He nodded, and his fingers closed around hers. "But how," he said, and his voice was strained.

Her entire body felt like it was thrumming with nervous energy. "I don't know," she said softly.

He glanced at her again. "I can't... I can't do this again. I can't keep falling into this. And then I saw you last night and..." He shook his head.

"But we can be friends without—"

He responded with a bitter chuckle. "We can't," he told her. "I know we can't. Or maybe you can, I don't know, but I can't. Because, goddamn it, I look at you and I _know_ I'm not over you, and if you're over me, if you can just say it like that, that we can be friends, that you _miss me_ , that you just want phone calls and advice... then you're over _me_."

She stroked her thumb down the side of his hand. "Did you ever think, you idiot, that it might hurt but I want you in my life _somehow_ and I want to be _happy_ for you, God, I wish to _hell_ I could just be happy for you. I wish I could say that I'm sad it didn't work out with those other girls." Her voice was rising, and she could feel the flush rising in her cheeks. "I did this because I thought it was best for me, and I have to _believe_ this, that Wilder is good for me, that if we were meant to be together, we would find a way. That we could find a way. Another five semesters and I'll be away from all this bullshit drama and—" Her voice was shaking.

"Another semester and I'll be graduated."

She swiped at her eye. "And the only constant I've had through all this is when it ends, every time, I think of how much different it would have been with you."

He glanced over again. "We can't go back to what we were. You know that."

She nodded. "I don't think that was ever really an option."

It felt like the storm had broken, but she wondered if it was just a prelude, if there was more to come. Their hands stayed joined until he released hers to reach for his soda, and in her chest, in the hot swelled space behind her eyes the trembling finally began to lessen.

The last few miles had her heart speeding again. The impressive tree-lined Greek Row was just as she remembered it. Ned pulled up in front of Omega Chi and turned off the car, handing her her keys. "You need to stretch your legs," he said, opening his door. "Come on in for a minute."

"I don't know."

"Come on." He brushed his fingertips over the back of her hand, and it wasn't a question, it was a test. If she really wanted this, she would come inside.

But what was _this_ , anyway? The promise of more marathon phone calls and a quick, unsatisfying date every month or so? An awkward breakup after his graduation?

 _Now who's overanalyzing_ , she thought, and opened her door.

Many of Ned's fraternity brothers were on the basketball team, and they were gathered in the kitchen, still looking rumpled from the long ride back to Emerson. The enormous flatscreen in the lounge area was displaying the current pro game. A few of the more committed brothers were trash talking each other over the foosball table. The study table was occupied by a couple more concerned with what was going on under the table, than on it. Ned dropped his duffel in the corner near the staircase and waved his hello. Nancy stood with her hands in her pockets, feeling like absolutely everyone was staring at her.

"Nice," Howie said, glancing between Nancy and Ned. "I see you took our advice."

Nancy raised an eyebrow and looked over at Ned. "Advice?"

Ned shook his head a little, making a face. "The usual. Get drunk and pick someone up. Which I _didn't_ ," he directed at the crowd in general. "Nancy was nice enough to give me a ride after you _assholes_ left me there."

"I'm sure she _did_ give you a ride," Paul cracked, elbowing the guy next to him, and Nancy felt herself coloring. Ned shook his head again.

Mike took pity on the two of them. "Want a drink?" he asked, lifting the rum bottle he had uncapped and tipped over a pair of shot glasses.

Nancy and Ned shook their heads simultaneously. "Fuck no," Ned supplied, looking over at the duffel bag. "I'll be right back. And if you give her a soda it better be fucking clean," he admonished them. The warmth of his fingertips barely brushed the small of her back as he walked past her.

"How have you been, Nancy?"

"Solving lots of cases?"

"Oh come on, one shot won't hurt."

She couldn't be sure if she was imagining the wariness in their eyes, or just projecting, but aside from their juvenile ribbing, no one seemed to be actively hostile. She took a tentative first sip of the soda she was offered, and that aftertaste was just her imagination too, she was sure. They wouldn't try to get her drunk. Definitely not.

Ned came back downstairs and she definitely wasn't imagining the avid interest in their gazes as Ned's brothers saw them together. "Look," he said softly, his face just a little too close to hers, "I know you have a really long trip ahead of you..."

She nodded. "Maybe we should just— I don't know. Maybe you don't want to decide anything."

Ned snickered a little. "Decisions are good," he said, and he was definitely too close now, and she was pretty sure all conversation had trailed off while they were being watched. She glanced around and took his hand.

"Maybe outside."

"Yeah, let's freeze to death on the porch. Nah."

He gripped her hand and led her upstairs, the sound of catcalls and "Quick work, Nickerson" following them, and despite her nervousness a small grin flashed over her face. At the top of the stairs she began to head left, but Ned tugged her right.

"You—"

"Better room," Ned explained, and led her to the corner room. Downstairs his brothers were still clapping, and Nancy flushed a little, hoping they'd lose interest soon.

The comforter was the same, but his computer was newer. Same TV and player. Sleek black microfridge in the corner. He flipped on the lights and she looked around, her hands clasped.

"So."

"Nice place," she said, and walked over to the bed, where he was sitting. For a long moment they just stayed there, not talking, not moving, and she could feel the heat he radiated through her clothes.

Ned cleared his throat. "What do you want," he said slowly, not unkindly.

"You..."

His hand brushed hers. "No, what do _you_ want."

She looked down. "I guess the problem is that I want everything," she replied. "And... I know that's impossible."

"Think that depends on what 'everything' means," he said.

"Well, we could start with a date," she suggested. "We could meet in Elm Springs."

"Which... is over halfway for you," he mused. "And has, what, two crappy pizza places to its name."

"And this diner that's supposed to not be half bad." Her fingers twitched under his. "So I'll put on something slinky—"

"And blow the minds of everyone in that sleepy little burg," Ned interjected.

"And we'll make small talk and I'll use my fake ID to get us a bottle of wine and..." she shrugged.

"Mmm."

"Okay, fine, your turn." Their gazes met and locked and for a long moment she couldn't remember how to speak. She swallowed hard. "What do you want?"

"A date in Elm Springs," he replied, and his mouth was turned up a little. "And we have a party here in two weeks, one of the big ones, and it would be awesome if you could make it. And then I can go to... whatever the hell it is you guys do at Wilder. And then we see how it's going."

She nodded. "So we're really honestly going to do this?"

"We'll try."

"And if it doesn't work?"

Ned brushed his finger over the tip of her nose. "Shh," he said.

A little shudder went through her shoulders. "Ned... I don't want this to be... I mean, what will it take? Is there some magic number or something or... I mean, if I miss five dates is it over? If I..."

His gaze slid from her eyes to her mouth. "What do you think," he said softly.

"I used to think that this... that we'd never be apart," she said.

Ned shook his head. "Me too."

"And I... Ned, if we try again... let's just be honest, okay? About everything. About what's working and what doesn't. About what we're feeling. About what we _want._ "

"Starting now," he suggested.

"Then... God, I wish we could be together every free second. But I'm nervous, and I don't know how much you've changed or how much I've changed or... anything, really. But I know you're the best guy I've ever had, and no one else has come close. And I know that no matter how much I want to be with you, there will be things that get in the way. Cases, assignments, school, just life in general."

"And we'll deal with it."

She nodded, and wondered for a second if he was going to kiss her. "Okay, so, honestly, Nickerson?"

He chuckled. "Yeah. We'll deal with it together. See each other as often as we can. It'll be easier, over the summer."

"Mmm." _I think you want to kiss me,_ she thought. _I think I want to kiss you too._

"I don't... I don't want you to leave, but do you have work to get done tonight?"

She sighed. "Yeah. God, I don't want to get back in that car."

"I'm sorry. I am. Really, really sorry. But if you hadn't gotten me drunk—"

" _Me_ get _you_ drunk?" she retorted. "I seem to remember someone betting he could drink me under the table."

Ned wrinkled his nose, and she rose to her feet, reluctantly. "Yeah, I won't be doing that again anytime soon." They walked very slowly to the door of his room together.

Then he touched her hand. "I wish... I wish I'd fought for you."

She shook her head. "I wish you had too," she said quietly. "But, more than that, I... I'm just so glad that you guys walked into that coffee shop last night."

He smiled, and leaned down to brush his lips over her cheek. "Drive careful, okay, Drew?"

"I will," she whispered, sliding an arm up around his neck, brushing her lips against his cheek in return.

Then he pulled back, and their gazes met.


	3. Chapter 3

They never could agree about it, later. He swore it was her and she swore that they had met halfway.

Either way, their mouths crashed hot into each other and her knees almost immediately turned to jelly. She slumped against his door, her nails dragging across his shirt as his tongue slipped into her mouth. Her eyes fluttered shut.

 _God._ God, how familiar it felt, and other men had kissed her but _this_ , this was what she had always expected, always wanted, and she never wanted it to stop.

His hand slipped down to the hem of her sweater and her belly trembled in anticipation, and she reached down too, helped him pull it over her head, breathless, her mind paralyzed with desire. His shirt and pants went quickly, their hands meeting, fingers fluttering over each other, and whenever their kisses broke they were smiling, grinning like fools.

He kissed his way slowly down her neck, and she ran her hands down over his shoulder blades, his fingertips down the indentation of his spine. His hips angled against hers and he curved his fingers around her bra strap, drew it halfway down her arm, and nuzzled her bra cup aside. She let out a soft moan as he sucked her nipple into his mouth, reaching behind her to unfasten her bra and shrug it off.

He teased and flicked at her other nipple with his tongue, bringing his hand up to cup through her jeans against the join of her thighs, and soon she was grinding against him, her head thrown back, fingers buried in his hair. She groaned and he squeezed her through her jeans, the heel of his hand pressing her clit against her pubic bone, and she squealed, his door shaking in the frame as she arched against it.

He straightened, releasing and squeezing again, and when he moved back she had to grab the doorknob to stay upright. He held her by the hips and his kisses sizzled all the way through her, down her spine, sending a flood of throbbing heat between her legs. He thumbed open her jeans, slowly inched down the zipper, and she broke off the kiss, her mouth hanging open in delight. Some impulse she couldn't find it in her to master made her buck slightly against him, and they stumbled toward the bed together, as she began to work her jeans off. Her panties came halfway down her legs along with them, and then Ned slipped his hand between the panties and her thigh and kept pushing them down, until she was naked.

And they had not said a word to each other, not since before that first kiss.

She crawled onto his bed with him, and when he pushed his underwear down her stomach did a hard flip. They were rapidly approaching the line they hadn't ever quite crossed, and showing no sign of slowing down. She moved onto her back and bent her legs, watching him dig in his bedside table for a condom, and _that_ sent a shiver over her. Definitely, definitely hadn't gone this far before with him.

With the swipe of his finger and a muttered delighted curse he confirmed she was wet, and moved into position over her, and she thought, _Oh_ —

And then the very tip of him was just between her slick inner lips, and he pressed in, firm and steady—

" _Oh_ ," she sobbed out, her forehead creasing in pain. She was so tight and he was so _big_ —

Ned's brow furrowed, and then he was pulling back, his mouth open. "Shit," he breathed, the first word he had said the entire time. "Oh, _shit_ , Nancy, why didn't you say—"

She let her legs fall open, her wide eyed gaze locked on his face. "Why didn't I—"

"You... you haven't—"

He glanced down and made a vague gesture and she understood. "No," she confirmed softly. "No. I'm— I never went farther than with you. But you... you have."

It was barely a question, and she wasn't shocked at his slow double nod. "Yeah. Nancy, why the _fuck_ didn't you stop me," he said, and his anger was directed only back at himself.

She shook her head, sitting up as he moved to the edge of the bed, reaching down to clasp his flushed erection. "It's— I didn't want to stop you. I didn't want to stop. What's wrong—"

His eyes were grieved when he glanced over at her. "Because... I would've made it different. Just... I'm sorry, let me take care of this—"

"I think I remember how," she told him, and he didn't protest as she took the condom off. She found his lotion in the drawer with the condoms and slicked it over her hands, then took him in her fist and began to stroke him, remembering the way he had wanted it when they had done this so many months ago. He arched, his hips moving against her ministrations, and when he came she slipped her fist down to the base of his cock, then released him. He grabbed the tissues and handed her a wad of them, and they cleaned themselves up.

Then she moved to sit beside him on the edge of the bed, and glanced over at him.

"That— I'm sorry. That was stupid. Very stupid of me."

She shook her head. "You thought I'd... had sex. With someone else."

He waved his hand irritably, deprecatingly. "All that walk of shame crap, and you... I mean, it's been a year, there have been other guys..."

She nodded and crossed her arms over her chest, and Ned sighed and motioned for her to get back under the covers, pulling them up over her. "There _have_ been other guys," she confirmed. "I just... didn't feel ready, with them."

"But _now_?" he asked, incredulously.

"Yeah," she said slowly, as though admitting it to herself as well. "I mean, you were ready."

"But you... babe, it's your _first time._ We can't... we can't just do it like that."

She took a deep breath. "Well, maybe a little slower—"

Ned groaned. " _Shit._ And you have to get back, and... _God._ I am so sorry. So, so fucking sorry."

Nancy reached up and put her fingertip over his lips. "I can just get up early and leave in the morning," she said quietly. "If that's okay with you, but let me remind you, you said you owed me big time. After last night, the least you can do is offer me a bed."

"At least we won't be sleeping on top of each other."

"Don't be too sure," she teased him, and ran her fingers through his hair when she saw him shake his head again. "Ned, please," she said, even more softly. "Please. I should've said something. But... I just didn't want you to stop. I _don't_ want you to stop." She shivered.

Ned sighed. "Let... let me get you your clothes."

"Why?"

"Because... we need to eat. And talk about this. And I can't think straight when you're naked."

They settled on ordering a pizza, and went downstairs to wait for it. Nancy took her keys and went out to her car, to move it to one of the visitor's parking spaces. The sky was a fading dirty-white, and Nancy had to brush a fresh layer of snow off the windshield of the Mustang before she could see through it. She grabbed the emergency overnight bag she always kept packed from the trunk and took a deep breath before she headed back inside.

Ned's frat brothers were significantly more inebriated than they had been when Nancy and Ned had headed upstairs, and Nancy raised her eyebrows when she saw a red tumbler in Ned's hand. "Oh?" she said, nodding at it.

"Just beer," he reassured her. "Want some?"

She shook her head. "Let me just take this upstairs."

"Yeah," a few of the brothers chorused, and she shot them all a sarcastically sunny smile as she headed upstairs. Once she found Ned's room, though, and dropped the bag at the foot of his bed, she finally let herself breathe out.

Between her legs still felt tender and sore, and that was just from the barest first thrust.

Nancy frowned, grasping the footboard. She'd meant what she said. She wanted this, if he wanted it, and she had wanted it even before they had started wrestling each other's clothes off... but they were barely back together, and less than official. If they were over in two weeks, if they couldn't change, if she couldn't change...

But those other men, the other men who had tried to coerce and cajole and wheedle her into the situation she and Ned had found themselves in barely five minutes after their first kiss... She hadn't felt this way, then. She hadn't been comfortable at the prospect of having her first time with one of them.

With Ned, though... for the longest time she had already been convinced that he _would_ be her first. In her head she had been through it dozens of times, the slow seduction of his touch, the intoxication of his kisses, the way his caress would leave her loose and tender in anticipation. It was like a given, like a memory she hadn't yet lived through. Sleeping with him. Making love to him.

She glanced down at her bag, taking a mental catalog, then nodded once and headed back downstairs.

The lounge areas of the frat house were like an adolescent boy's dream. The main television was usually tuned to ESPN, and the other rooms held game consoles, a pool table, the foosball game. The liquor cabinet looked like half of a package store.

It was a Sunday night, though, and a few of the brothers were actually doing their chores, tidying up the kitchen, vacuuming. Maury and Paul were at the study table, but Mike, Howie, and four or five other frat members were seated around the kitchen table, playing poker.

"Want to play, Nancy?" Mike asked when she wandered through, looking at what they were doing. "We can start a special round for you."

"Yeah, strip," one of the brothers she didn't recognize muttered, and the rest guffawed.

Ned came in and tossed his cup into the trash. "Won't be too long, babe," he told her, coming over to stand next to her. "Cards?"

She slipped an arm around his waist, her every nerve alert to his response, and tightened, drawing herself closer to him. "Not right now," she said, and leaned her head against his shoulder.

He didn't tense up, and if she closed her eyes, it was like that year just hadn't happened.

By the time the pizza came, most of the brothers were crowded in front of the television set, shouting loudly at the game. Nancy and Ned took their dinner to the kitchen and ate their slices while leaning against the countertop, gazing at each other.

When they were finally, briefly alone, Ned reached over with his free hand and pushed a lock of hair off her forehead. "Look, you know you can change your mind, right?"

"Is that what you want?"

He shrugged. "It's a lot of pressure," he said softly. "I mean, if I suck at it, you won't want to do it again, and if it's good... well, I will literally skip the rest of the semester just to be in bed with you, and—"

"You wouldn't do that."

"I wouldn't do that," he agreed, and smiled. "Maybe every other Friday, though."

She chuckled. "We don't have to do this unless you want to," she told him. "And... the timing isn't ideal. Maybe we should just wait until later. Some romantic night, a bottle of wine— like I said, not anytime soon."

He kissed her cheek just as one of his brothers walked in. "Well... let's just say that if we decide not to quite go all the way, I'm cool with... not quite going all the way."

She nodded and ran her fingers through his hair. "How very chivalrous of you."

"I aim to please." He took a large bite of his slice.

The shouts and cheers at the game were faint when they went back up to his room. Ned logged on and finished up his work for the next day's classes, and when he logged off she took over. She had practically decided to skip her first class anyway, and she checked to see if the teacher had posted any of the upcoming assignments yet. Her editor had sent her a question about the interview, and she composed a brief answer.

When she turned back around Ned had lit the three candles clustered on his bedside table, and was already in his undershirt and jeans. She looked up at him and he gave her a small smile.

"Let me get ready," she murmured, reaching for her bag and heading for the hallway bathroom.

When she returned, her winter coat wrapped around her like a makeshift robe, Ned's overhead light was off and the candlelight reflected off the walls. A few condoms and a bottle of lube had joined the candles on the table.

She glanced from that to him, and for a second she wondered how many girls it had been, how many times, if it had been here. Then she closed her eyes and shook her head briefly. It didn't matter.

"What?"

She shook her head again, slowly. "You're very prepared," she said softly, and unzipped her coat. "I was just... kind of wondering exactly... how prepared. But it doesn't matter," she rushed to add.

"I've got plenty of condoms, if that's what you mean."

"I guess... I kind of mean how many condoms you've already gone through." She kept her gaze down.

"Two girls," he told her. "I don't know the number... of condoms," he said dryly. "But I'm gonna make this as good for you as I can."

She sighed as Ned crossed to her and slipped the coat off her, then tossed it over the back of his desk chair. Under it she wore a plain black slip, the kind she would actually wear under a dress, not some miniscule scrap of fabric from a lingerie catalog. Her overnight bag had been packed for all foreseeable contingencies, save this one.

"You can change your mind," he reminded softly, and he wasn't yet touching her, but just the thought of that warmed her.

"So can you," she told him, and reached up to cup his cheek in her palm.

He shook his head. "I'm in it for as long as you are," he told her, and leaned down to softly press his lips to hers.

And she parted hers, all of her thrumming the way she had earlier, when she had been under him, and his tongue slipped into her mouth, tasting her slowly. His hand slipped under the hem of her gown and she made a soft amused noise, cupping the back of his head as the kiss deepened. He slipped his thumb beneath and ran it gently against the elastic of her panties, against her skin, and she sighed, breaking the kiss.

"Jeans off," she panted, and Ned chuckled as he obeyed.

They slipped into bed together and they faced each other, on their sides, kissing slowly. He inched the gown up her side and stroked her hip, as he kissed her, gently biting her lower lip, and her brow creased as the gentle rhythm of his strokes made her inner flesh clench weakly in answer. He rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him, and she was straddling one of his legs, and he pulled his knee up, groaning as she gently rubbed the join of her legs against his thigh.

"Babe," he forced out, reaching down to grasp her ass with both hands. She let out a frustrated moan. She needed more contact, more. She grasped his undershirt and tugged, and he sat up, letting her take it off. As she tossed it to the floor he touched the lace-trimmed hem of her slip, and inched it up. When the silk was above her breasts she raised her arms, and he started with her left nipple this time, suckling hard against the sensitive flesh. She straddled his lap, standing up on her knees, and finished pulling her gown off.

"Ned," she sighed, letting one hand drift down to rake her fingers through his hair. They were down to just their underwear, but even that felt like too much. He squeezed her ass again, through the thin fabric of her panties, and her hips trembled.

She leaned down, still undulating a little in time with the strokes of his tongue, and panted into his ear. "I want you," she moaned, and hooked her thumbs at the sides of her panties. "I want you so much."

Ned cupped his hands over hers, stilling them. "Not yet," he whispered, pulling back a little. "Let me go first."

He took his underwear off and as soon as he slipped back into bed, it seemed, she was straddling him again. Ned chuckled. "It's okay," he murmured, and rubbed his thumbs over her nipples. She tilted her head back and let out a low moan, her hips sinking to his. He groaned when the warm satin between them touched his sex.

"Baby, you can't—"

She brought her head back up, her blue eyes hazed with desire as they met his. "Why," she murmured, and her hips shifted and his eyes rolled back a little.

"Because I want to make this last," he said, and grasped her hips, shoving her back a little.

"I want you now," she breathed.

"You aren't ready for me yet."

"I think I am."

In answer he stroked one fingertip against the slit of her sex, through her panties, and she whimpered. "You want me here," he murmured, and her hips rocked against his hand as she nodded. He dug his thumb against her and she panted, grasping his shoulders, her rocking growing even more frantic.

"When's the last time you came," he growled.

"Last week, in the shower," she panted, and bit his earlobe gently. "While I was thinking about you."

He roughly thumbed her panties aside and the ball of his thumb rubbed directly against her clit and she cried out loudly, shaking. She grasped his sex and began to stroke him frantically, gasping out her breaths. "Inside me," she begged him, and his hips began to rock of their own volition. "Please please oh God I want to feel you inside me."

"Nan," he mumbled, and pushed his finger between her thighs, groaning in pleasure when he found her inner flesh hot and already incredibly slick with arousal. He grasped her panties by the crotch and began to pull them down, and she swung off him and immediately shoved the black silk down her legs. When she returned to him he was on his back.

She didn't straddle him again. "Not like this?" he asked, his sex already throbbing in anticipation of what he had felt between her thighs.

She looked almost shy for a second. "I want... can you be on top," she whispered, and then glanced up at his eyes. "I just... I don't know what to do and... I've always seen it that way, our first time."

Ned smiled at her. "Yeah, but you... you just have to tell me when it hurts. When you're on top you can control it but when I'm on top, I don't know..."

She nodded and laid down on the bed, knees up, waiting for him. He grasped her hips and moved her to the center of his bed, directly under him, and she was gazing up at him.

"This is it," she whispered.

Ned nodded and reached for a condom. While he was rolling it on, she glanced back at the table.

"The lube?"

"Baby, you don't need it," he told her, and touched her knees, parting them. He parted her sex, too, and she arched under him, her mouth falling open.

Oh God, oh God, this was it, and she didn't know what to do, didn't know what he wanted, and her stomach was tight in anticipation. Her panted breaths were louder now, and he fitted himself just inside her, the way he had earlier.

This time, though, he took it so, so much slower. He leaned down and she slid her arms around his neck, and whenever she released a loud moan he was there to stifle it with his kiss. She was pinned under his weight, and she couldn't push him off her, even if she wanted to. Realizing that made her tense, and oh, God, he fit so tight between her thighs, so tight it hurt.

"Ned," she cried out, and he immediately stilled, pulling back to look into her face. Her nails were digging into his back.

"Nan?"

She shook her head. "It's okay," she gasped out, and her hips bucked once under him, and he almost lost every single bit of control he still possessed. He kept going, slowly, oh so so slowly, and though he saw that same crease of pain on her face, she didn't tell him to stop.

"You have to tell me," he gasped out, and she blinked lazily up at him. "You have to tell me if it hurts."

She shook her head. "It's okay," she repeated, but when he finally pressed the last inch inside her, she arched so hard under him, her fingers digging into him again. Her cry was wordless, meaningless, desperate.

Only when he pulled back for his first thrust did he touch her clit, and she froze underneath him, afraid to move, afraid to break the sensation of that caress. He circled it a few times and kept circling it as he sheathed himself again inside her, and she shuddered, tilting her head back.

"Feels so good," she sobbed out, her hips rocking just barely under him. "Mmm."

"This," he said, stilling his thrust and moving only his thumb, and she nodded vehemently. He pressed his sex into hers again and she arched, shaking.

"Oh my _God_ ," she whimpered, and he knew he had to be hurting her, knew it, but she just bit her lip and tensed and he made it gentler, slower. Her brows drew together and her panted breaths were edged in pain, and she trembled whenever he moved inside her.

"Ned," she begged, and her nails were hard points against the back of his neck. "Ned, please, please, I want you to come."

Hearing her say that, hearing that desperate plea in her voice, sent him over the edge. He rocked inside her, almost roughly, and she was so wet that he could hear their joining.

He came with a stuttered grunt and a sigh, her hips moving in quick counterpoint against his, and collapsed to her, pinning her legs wide open underneath him. He kept working her clit, his sex buried tight in the hollow of hers, and she sucked in a quick breath for a loud moan that he muffled.

"Ned, _fuck_ ," she cried out, trembling, circling her hips, and he began to feel it, the weak clench of her inner flesh around him. Her mouth was wet against his shoulder and she bent her knees, pushing up against him.

"Next time," he whispered against her ear, and she whimpered, groping over him as his nail moved against her clit, "next time, baby, I'll wait and you, _fuck_ ," he groaned, shifting his weight. "I'll wait for you, because _God_ , you feel so good."

"Next time?" she repeated, with a breathless chuckle, planting her heels on the bed to push her hips against his hand. "Mmmmmmm—"

He pulled out of her quickly, and slipped three fingers up inside the slick clench of her sex, shifting his weight off her. He kissed her quickly, feeling the hitch of her breathing with every stroke of his fingers, then rolled onto his back, and she followed lazily, straddling him again, his fingers buried inside her.

With a groan she leaned down, planting her hands above his shoulders, riding him. Then she opened her eyes, her lips parted, and their gazes met.

"You okay?"

She nodded, and hung her head a little, her hair trailing over his chest.

"Hurt?"

She bit her lip and met his gaze again, and his face fell a little. His fingers slowed in her.

"I can't come," she whispered. "Sorry. Let's just..."

"Because it hurt?"

She swung off him, still panting. "It still hurts," she told him, pushing her hair out of her flushed face.

"Baby, I—"

She shook her head. "It's okay. It's okay. You— did you?"

Ned nodded, chuckling. "You don't ever have to worry about me," he reassured her. "Fuck. I'm sorry."

She waved her hand. "Always wondered..."

"What?"

"How _that_ ," she said, nodding at his lap, "would ever fit inside me. It... lube...?"

"Sweetheart, you were wet as holy fuck. Lube wasn't going to do _anything_ more."

She sighed. "I'm sorry."

"About what?"

She tucked her hair behind her ears and shivered, and Ned reached for her. She patted his hand and opened his bedside table, pulling out a tissue. She wiped her aching thighs, wincing, and tossed the tissue into the trash. Only then did she move under the covers, where he was beckoning her.

Ned got up then and disposed of the condom, wiping off his own hands. He glanced at her when he saw the blood on the tissue.

"Seriously, are you okay?"

She chuckled a little nervously. "How's it supposed to feel?" she asked him, as he slid into bed with her.

"Dunno," he admitted. "How _does_ it feel?"

"Ache," she told him, and curled against his side, laying her head on his shoulder. "There was no..."

"Fireworks?"

She smacked him lightly, playfully. "No chorus of angels. No shower of glitter. I didn't feel like I was suddenly at one with the universe."

"Well, I guess we all need something to work toward."

She craned her neck to look up at him. "I wanted it to be good for you," she whispered.

He inched backward so he could prop his head against the headboard and see her. "As long as we both make it through alive and not bleeding, I think it's pretty much always going to be good for me," he told her. "I wanted it to be good for _you_."

She gave him a half-smile, shivering a little as he ran his hand down her side. "Guess I let you down on the not bleeding part."

Ned slid his arm around her and hugged her hard. "Sorry. Okay, every time after this one."

She nuzzled against him, trailing her hand idly down his chest. "You keep saying every time," she murmured.

"Fuck. I knew it. Now you'll never want to have sex again."

She chuckled, then forced her eyes open. He was slowly stroking her hair. "We got way, _way_ ahead of ourselves," she said seriously. "We... we're together now."

"Yeah, we're definitely together now." He shivered, then pulled the covers up higher over them. "I really didn't mean for us to get this far."

Nancy nodded, and buried her face against his chest. He moved away from her to blow out the candles, then snuggled under the covers with her, in the dark. He draped his arm over her, and they faced each other, naked.

She listened as his breathing slowed, and shifted, her lips brushing his collarbone. She slowly let her guard down, wincing when that throb between her legs momentarily deepened, and her eyelashes brushed his skin.

Oh God. Too fast. This was too fast. They hadn't even gone on a real date yet. And she had been awful in bed, regardless of what he said. Clearly he'd been with other girls. He had someone to compare her to. She had no one to compare him to. And every single date they had would be about sex now. That was how it had been with Bess and George after their boyfriends had become their lovers.

Fuck. _Fuck._ Spending an entire day with him didn't make up for all the time they had spent apart.

Nancy blinked and was horrified at the thickness in her throat, a burning lump she couldn't quite swallow. A tear slid down her cheek and she drew in a quiet breath, a small whimper escaping her as she breathed out.

Ned's eyes opened. "Nan?" he asked, touching her face, and groaned when he felt the dampness there. "Is it— is it still hurting? Do you need some aspirin?"

"It's not that," she said, her voice just below a whisper, to keep herself from crying harder. "I just put _so much_ pressure on this. On us."

" _We_ did," he corrected her. "We both chose this. And yeah, maybe it was too fast... you regret it?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "I mean, I love you..."

Ned tipped his face and kissed her, slowly. "Yeah," he replied. "I think you can be pretty awesome, too."

She half-smiled and ran her hand through his hair. "I can't just be casual about this."

"Then we won't be casual." He kissed her again.

Sometime after the fourth lazy kiss, she drifted off, turning onto her other side. She had to burrow deep under the covers to get warm, and then she found herself gravitating to the warmth of Ned's body. He rolled onto his side and she curled up behind him, their bodies spooned up together.

When she woke they were reversed and he was curled up against her back, and his fingertips were lightly brushing her hip.

She shifted her hip and his hand fell down, between her thighs.

Ned stretched behind her. "Mmm?" he hummed, soft, slow with exhaustion.

"Mmm," she replied, and cupped her hand over his.

The throb between her thighs had faded away, and when Ned touched her, she arched, hips moving against him. He was gentle, and his lips brushed her shoulder, and she kept her hand over his as she rolled over with a sigh, drawing him with her. She slid her knees apart and rocked down against him as he fingered her.

" _More_ ," she mumbled, gasping as he thrust his fingers deep between her thighs. She let out a high groan, her breasts brushing the sheet as she arched. "God," she whimpered.

Ned's cock was firm, hot, as it brushed the small of her back. "More?"

"Mmm," she moaned, as he snaked his other hand under her. He circled her clit the other way and she began panting, her face tight with the pleasure and pain of it. "God, _yes_ ," she gasped out, her hips jerking. " _Ned._ "

"Come," he whispered, his mouth against her neck. His fingertips curved and stroked against her inner flesh and she trembled, burying his face in her pillow as she let out a high choked cry. "Come, baby. God, you are so fucking hot right now."

She pushed herself up on her knees a little, her hand pressing his tight against her. "Oh, _oh_ ," she gasped out, and all of her was shaking now. "Oh my God, oh my _God_."

Ned's hips jerked down, his cock hard against the small of her back as she came, but somehow he didn't stop and she was writhing, begging, bearing down against him. She collapsed to the bed and he pulled his hand out from under her, and then she tensed as she felt him guide his cock between her thighs.

"Ned..."

He made a soft sound and she felt the head of his sex glide down, the length of him rubbing against her lips, but he didn't slide inside her. His fingers were still slick with her arousal as he stroked himself, and he pulled away from her before he came, panting in the darkness.

Nancy turned over, accepting the tissue he handed her. "God," she sighed, drawing out the single syllable. "Yeah, let's just keep doing that."

"It is nice," he admitted. "Not as good as other things, but yeah."

The morning came too quickly, and it was still incredibly dark outside when Nancy's cell phone alarm went off. She turned it off with a muffled curse, snuggling against him.

Her boyfriend. She supposed she could call him her boyfriend, especially now.

"Get up," Ned told her, his voice gravelly with sleep. "Because if you stay in this bed one minute longer I'm just going to stay here and keep having sex with you. Or whatever. And I have a lab practical today."

Nancy made a face. "Lab practical, or have sex with your girlfriend," she pretended to weigh for him before tossing the covers back. Ned hissed when the cold air hit him, and she took pity on him, throwing the covers back over him.

She found her panties in the soft glow coming through the blinds from the streetlights and pulled them back on, found her bra in her duffel bag, and picked up her toiletry bag. Ned was propped up on his elbows, just gazing at her.

She stopped and directed a bashful smile at him.

"I do love you," he said quietly. "I've tried and I can't stop, so I kinda guess I always will."

She stood still for a moment longer, then crossed to the bed, climbing back in, into his arms. He squeezed her tight and she smiled against his neck.

"I kinda guess I'll always love you too, Nickerson."

That date in Elm Springs didn't happen. Nancy was asked to cover the international festival on campus and Ned scored tickets to a sold-out concert four hours away, and took one of his fraternity brothers along. In the meantime they talked to each other every other day, and even if she only had time to tell him she'd had a terrible day and desperately wanted to see him again soon, she still made the time to call him. And Ned still seemed a little more guarded than he had been, and his voice dropped a little lower when he murmured that he loved her before they hung up, but he said it, and that was what she wanted.

They hadn't seen each other in eleven days, ten hours, and twenty-two minutes when she pulled up in front of the Omega Chi house. The fraternity was bright, the party already deafening. Guests spilled out onto the porch and the lawn, despite the cold. Two brothers were wrestling a keg up the stairs.

Nancy pulled down the visor to check her makeup one last time, pressed her lips together, then nodded and slipped out of the car. She hefted a freshly-packed duffel bag over her shoulder and walked inside, her heels clicking on the pavement, her stomach jumping with nervous tension.

Part of her was convinced that she would see it in his face, that he had changed his mind about doing this. That some girl, some tanned blonde bitch who was better in bed than she knew how to be, would be hanging all over him.

She shook her head, swallowing the lump in her throat. Her plum-colored sweaterdress was cinched around her waist with a wide belt, and her boots were knee-high and featured a wickedly tall heel. She knew she looked fantastic, but what really made the outfit was the locket Ned had given her.

She stepped inside and scanned the crowd, her heels giving her a slight advantage. Nervously she hitched the duffel's strap against her shoulder. She fought the urge to text him; he had known she was on the way.

Then he stepped out of the kitchen with a red plastic tumbler in his hand, shouting something over his shoulder to whoever was behind him. His brown hair was mussed, and he looked relaxed and incredibly handsome in a maroon sweater and faded jeans.

Then he turned and saw her, and their gazes locked. A slow smile crossed his face, lighting him from within, and all the jealousy and fear in her stomach began to melt.

He shouldered through the crowd and reached for her duffel bag, then her hand, and nothing around them mattered anymore, the raucous party, the curious eyes, any of it. She had packed a few nighties, some sweet and some naughty, for him. She wished to hell she was wearing one now.

His hand touched hers and his grin warmed her too, warmed her from within.

And then, for the first time in what felt like forever, she started to think she was going to be okay.


End file.
